Dark Flames
by Snow Blind Raven
Summary: Azula wasn't normal, that much was for sure. But her life is turned upside down when the person tasked with raising her is murdered, leaving her forced to run. Raven re-enters the picture to straighten things out, but what she finds is even worse than she had thought. And now, with Ravens brothers after her, will Azula finally find out who she is kin to? Sequel to "Slades New Toy"
1. Prologue

Prologue

_"Raven?"_ A voice called from the dark. A silky voice, one belonging to whom she remembered well. It could only belong to that sole person. But even so, she ran from it. She ran from the memories that were burned into her thoughts. She ran as fast as she could, all while clutching a child of just three months old to her chest.

The voice repeated, _"Raven?"_

"No," Raven cried, "Stay back! Stay away!"

_"Give me my child, Raven!"_

"Never!"

The child whimpered in her arms, then turned to a cry and a sobbing screech.

Raven awoke from the dream, covered in sweat and pain from the dream. The child was safe, she knew that for fact. Although she wasn't in contact with her, she knew she was safe. The child was far from Raven, and that was the safest place it could be.

But still, she hadn't checked up on her in four years.


	2. Azula

Chapter One: Azula

Azula PoV

These idiots! There so drunk and stupid.

I leaned against the top of the stairs at a wild party. Drunken teenagers stumble and dance sloppily to the constant beat of the music. I have my red solo cup in hand, almost empty now of my mixed beverage. But I don't get intoxicated like these normal people. It's weird, and sad; I can't relax and enjoy it like they can. Still I lean against the railing, overlooking the crowd.

Those who are tossed that attempt the stairs, are hit with a nearly invisible slap of black magic, and are sent flying back down. It's a fun attempt at making use of my abnormal abilities.

Jason, a good friend of mine, approached the railing where I leaned. He almost never drank, but he came anyway to help prank the drunk. This time, he painted a door on a sheet of poster paper and taped it to a wall. The fake door was labeled "Bathroom". Many of the drunks just walked right into it.

"Why so "gloom and doom"," He laughed.

I stayed silent and swished my drink around, then, with a smirk, poured it onto the drunken crowd. Several yells and cuss words are heard, but no one realized it was me. They are too drunk to realize.

I glanced at Jason, his chocolate eyes claw for answers. I don't give him that satisfaction, though. His brown hair has been brushed back, but a few strands flail from their place in rebellious attempts. The worn brown leather jacket he has on make him seem like a badass. And sometimes he is. But I know his life isn't perfect. I know where he comes from, and it's the same place I do.

A group home. Granted, a well taken care of group home. But perfume on a pig doesn't make it smell any better, either.

I relinquish the though and turn back to the crown, brushing a stray strand of black hair from my view. The front door is in my view, as well. Then I hear it with my acute hearing, a wailing of sirens, and I search the auras that approach the door. The cops.

"Dammit! Jase, we gotta go. Now!"

He shoots me a look, confusion, then follows me to the back of the house on the second story. I find the first window I see and fling it open with no time to spare. There are a few cops out here as well, they try to hide in the darkness, but I can see nearly perfect in the dark. If we jump, we could get out, maybe. I don't think Jason could NOT get hurt by jumping. I would be fine; I could float down. But Jason…

He sees my dilemma and shakes his head.

"Go, I can stay. I wont get in that much trouble. But if Mrs. Kirkov sees you in the back of a cop car, yet again, she's gonna send you away!"

By now I hear screams from the police to "get on the ground" in the house and screams from the drunk that are curses of terror.

"Go!" He yelled. I nod slowly and jump. My landing is a soft thud, and three cops rush towards me. Looks like I have to fight my way free. The first cop to reach me is older, and all I have to do is sidestep him, his turn is slow. The second cop stays a yard away from me with his tazar held up. I almost laugh. I move inhumanly fast and dodge his tazar and, with cracks of black power, send the shocking strings back into him. He twitches on the ground for a few seconds then goes unconscious. The first and the third cop both run at me again, I run away this time. I know I can outrun them.

The back wooden fence is close now, and in one inhuman jump, I'm over it. Leaving the cops confused behind me. After that little escapade, I stop by a gas station about a mile away from the house. It only took a few minutes, though, because I flew there. I head straight for the bathroom for one purpose; mirror. The image I am presented with is ratted hair and not a scratch or scuff of dirt on me. My thick lined black mascara still holds its flawless shape around my vibrant blue eyes with the point of the tail still in tact, and my cherry red lips smile mischievously. My black tank top has a single red rose on it, with a few fallen petals. My blue skinny jeans are ripped, though I bought them like that. And my black combat boots are laced up and perfect. I run my fingers through my hair and detangle the knots, then make my exit of the bathroom. I buy a cold coffee before I leave the station.

I begin to walk home. Well not home, more like a place I sleep and get punished for various things, sometimes things that aren't my fault. The giant three story house that I make my way to is huge, and it happens to be four miles away. By the time I see the house, I notice one thing.

Cop cars are parked out front, along with an ambulance, a fire truck, and a random long black van. I look closer and the van has the Lithonwood City seal on it, along with the lettering "Coroners" and various other words.

Someone is dead. I feel a cold shiver run through me. Immediately, I turn invisible and walk into the crime scene. Just as I crawl under the yellow caution tape, a news crew pulls up in a van. Cameras and pictures are the only thing that can see me when I am invisible.

Crap. I run inside before they start shooting their piece for the news.

Inside, the living room houses all of the teenagers and children that call this house home. There is crying and muffled sobs that permeates through the walls. I make my way upstairs, where every investigator seems to go. I slip through a door that another police officer just came out of. I freeze as soon as I enter.

The image is horrifying.

Mrs. Kirkov is strung up against the wall with her arms extended out like a cross. At first I think her hands are balled into fists, but really, her fingers litter the floor underneath her. She is still in her white nightgown, though it is a red now with how much blood soaks her. Her face is twisted in a tortured scream, frozen; her eyes are hazy and lifeless. There are many cuts and stabs in her bodice that I actually believe that I will throw up. I turn to leave, but on the back of the door I see red lettering; Mrs. Kirkovs' blood.

It reads;

Where is she?

I shiver again; I feel like the writing is speaking to me, and me alone. But that's ridiculous. There are plenty of others that stay here, and it could just be someone Mrs. Kirkov knew outside the home that the murderer was talking about.

But even then, why did he leave a message?

I shake any further prodding. Then, from behind me, someone notices me. The shock must have made my invisibility drop.

"Who are you? How did you get up here? Why aren't you with the others?"

I am escorted back to the others I saw in the living room. Some look up when I am roughly shoved in, most don't seem to care. I scan the big room for Jason, but I don't see him. I make my way to the window, and perch myself on the sill. The full force of the scene hits me, and I break down.


	3. Gone

Sorry guys, I accidentally updated the chapter ahead of this one! Ditz move sorry! I feel bad... tehehe

Chapter Two: Gone

Azula PoV

Hours after I am caught and put back in the room, myself and the other kids are taken to the police station. From there, Mr. Kirkov is planned to collect us. But the time span from when we arrive and when we are supposed to be collected is almost three days. A social worker checks on us and makes sure none of us are borderline suicidal. None of us are.

I never found Jason. Maybe he did escape the party and found out about Mrs. Kirkov and decided to run for it. He is my only real friend that I made at the home, but I would have expected him to come for me.

After one day, I am about to lose it. I want out of the station so bad. I considered teleporting out, But no way in hell am I going to show the world I have powers. Not yet anyway.

After two days, I convince one of the on duty officers to take our group to the park. Six cops take the eleven of us to the park and allow us to play Frisbee or just relax on the grass.

I ask one of the female cops if I can use the restroom. The only way she will let me go is if she checks the bathroom and makes sure it is clear. This is my chance to escape. She clears the bathroom and then stands by the outside door. I go in a stall and then teleport to a place I frequent; A coffee shop. Well, I teleported to the alley beside the coffee shop, to be exact.

I walk from the alley and down the road, as people pass by on the street I hide my face, incase the cop knows I'm gone and issued an alert. I'm still wearing my clothes from the party; they never let us change. They did, however, find us a place to shower and sleep. I did have to wash my make up off, to, so that I didn't get any zits in my usually perfect skin.

By now the police must realize I'm gone. Which means they will be on the lookout for me. I need a place to crash for the night, preferably before it gets dark. The only place I can think of staying hidden is in the commercial slums of the town. There are a few blocks of deserted office buildings and factories there. Our town used to be bigger, but them they exported our work and many families moved away.

But first, even before I find a place to sleep, I need a change of clothes. And some makeup wouldn't hurt either. Luckily when I went to the party, I grabbed my wad of cash, sadly, it only contained seventy dollars. So the nearest cheap clothing store I found, I ran to.

Goodwill, can't go wrong there. I find myself a black T-shirt that has a yellow smiley face on it with vampiric fangs; the tips of the fangs are tinted in red, and a black pair of plain skinny jeans. I keep my combat boots, though; they might come in handy.

I count the remaining cash, there's just enough for make up, a hair brush, and a few meals, very cheap meals.

I doll myself up to what I looked like at the party, red lips and black eyeliner with a tail. After a cheap, one burger meal from a fast food joint, I head to the deserted commercial buildings in town. I found a cheap dark green satchel in a dumpster near the fast food joint I ate at. It's worn and has a hole on the side, but altogether it looks great for being free. I put my belongings in it; my brush and previous clothes and remaining cash.

Once I'm deep in the heart of the closed buildings, it's dark. I chose a building fast before its to late. The one I found had boarded up windows, though I had to break one window to get in. Rows of strange old machines hord inches of dust over themselves.

My nose threatens to sneeze, but I don't allow it to. If I sneeze, more dust will fly in the air, and I will only sneeze more.

I notice, also, that the building is one story, though it has a high roof with a catwalk system hanging from the ceiling. I chose to sleep on the catwalk, incase someone should come in I would be high enough to hide from sudden detection. I find a spot near a latter and I kick the dust while holding my breath. When the dust settles elsewhere, I curl up and use my purse as a pillow.

Its cold out and I usually don't get cold easily. So I put my other shirt over me like a blanket, at least it covers my arms. It takes awhile for me to get tired, and even longer for me to go to sleep.

o\0\8/0/o

I surfaced to the screeching of rusty metal. The noise makes me wince and cover my highly sensitive ears. I am groggy as I shove my makeshift blanket into my satchel and wipe the small amount of sleep from my eyes.

I search the darkness for the noise, then I realize someone opened the main door to the old facility. A van pulls in and parks in the middle of the building, about thirty yards from my perch up above.

I stay silent and still, hardly daring to breath.

Several figures step out of the van, they all wear the same style clothing; black and grey colored material covering their whole, and an orange circle in the middle of their face. I notice their fingers are slightly longer than normal humans and their movements seem almost robotic.

Then a man gets out, he is visibly different. He has seemingly white hair that is pulled back into a low pony tail in the back and he dons one eye patch and a white goatee. His attire is mostly black, with the exception of various silver plates of armor on his thighs and arms, and a silver utility belt at his waist.

He glances around the building, almost like he is looking for me. His eyes narrow and he barks an order to the lackeys, as I now guess they are.

"Search every inch of the building!" he resorts to lean against the vans hood, waiting for the lackeys to finish.

They all were incredibly fast. On the far end of the catwalk I was crouched on, even though it was likely only sixty feet, one of them climbed up and was heading my way. As soon as one saw me, they all headed for me. There was no communication whatsoever, no hand signal, no buzz or beep. It puzzled me. How did they ALL know I was here?

Puzzled or not, I was either going to be apprehended, or fight my way out. I slung my satchel down and immediately blocked an oncoming slash from the lackey. My boot knocked the lackey on its back and I took no time to jump the railing, landing softly in a roll. From here I was obscure from view, but dammit, I left my bag up on the catwalk.

I twisted slightly behind the machine to peak at the van; the man was not there. A hand on my shoulder roughly yanked me back and I saw stars dance acrossed my vision when I hit my head on the concrete. Another kick to my head, and I fell into darkness.


	4. Guest

Okay! If anyone was wondering why the story didn't make sense then your in luck cause I'm an idiot! I updated the wrong chapter, my bad, but it's fixed now but I recomend that you check chapter two out cause I done fucked up.

It's fixed now!

Chapter Three: Guest

Azula PoV

It was dark. It was cold. There was a burning sensation at my wrists, from a cut or a scrape. I was sore. My legs were tied to the legs of the chair. My arms were tied behind me. I heard muttered voices, I couldn't hear what they were saying but I heard their voices. It was like being under water trying to listen to an above water conversation. My mouth is dry, then I realize there is a gag in my mouth.

Things are coming to me a little to slow at the moment.

My blindfold is ripped off, but I can't see anything but white, so I close my eyes as fast as possible to avoid the dizzying blindness. Then the gag is ripped away.

I slowly open my eyes as they try to readjust to the light.

A man—no _the _man I saw by the van grimaces above me.

"What are you doing out here, kid?" He asked me. I look around, trying to feel my bearings. We are still in the building, but I'm tied to a chair.

"Answer me, why are you here?"

"Running from something," was all I could croak out before I sputtered into a coughing fit. The man, either trusting or generous, cut my bindings and handed me a bottle of water from out of the van. I take a sip and hope it's not poisoned.

"This is a bad part of town, and you don't look like a street rat, who are you?" the man kneels so that we were eye to eye. From here, I see a faded pink line peak from under his black eye patch that covers his left eye.

"My name is Azula. I don't know my parents and my group home manager was just murdered. I don't want to go back to another group home. Or the same one even. I don't know why I'm here, as in this building. It looked abandoned and safe-ish."

The man just stares at me, as if he is searching my soul for who I am. I stare back, but I make my stare more calculating.

"Well, I heard the news about the lady who was killed, and the news also said that two of the kids ran away. Be careful where you show your face at, kid, they have eyes everywhere," The man stands up. I stand up, and immediately sway sideways. The man catches me and guilds me back to the chair. The stars had returned for a moment, making me dizzy again.

"You know my name. Well, what's yours?"

"It would be better if you didn't know," he laughs lightly.

"I'm going to make up a name then, Mr. Scary-Pirate-Goatee."

The man smirks amusingly, "Feisty, you want to know my name? I'm—"

And explosion is set off from the wall and chucks of rubble and metal are thrown everywhere. I'm thrown from my seat and the only sound I can register is a constant ring. I lay there in a daze as dust layered like fog makes everything impossible to see. My stomach burns and I look down half-heartedly. A jagged metal shard protrudes from me. I stare at it, nothing comes to mind about what to do. I feel sick, now, and my hands start shaking. Seconds or minute—I don't really know—later a pool of red liquid gathers around me.

I faintly hear yelling and fighting. There's a gunshot. But I can't move. My energy is resolved to convulsing. I don't have control of my eyes, or my entire body for that matter. My eyes focus and refocus, close and reopen. I taste a metallic taste in my mouth and then I cough up spurts of blood.

The last thing I remember was a dark figure descending towards me.

o\0\8/0/o

Some say dark cannot be dark without the light. Or light, without the dark, for that matter. But it's purely based on perspective.

Is the glass half empty? Or half full?

But as the light and dark fade together, grey is formed.

That's where I sit now. There is nothing here. No images or sounds. No feeling or smells. I am motionless. Occasionally, someone or something else moves my physical body, while my mental body is stiff and hampered.

My body starts slowly reconnecting, piece by piece. Like a computer trying to reboot itself. Slowly, I begin to hear, feel, and smell again. But my sight always stays dark. I even begin to taste the saliva in my mouth.

When I finally gain my sight back, all I can do is toss my head and moan. I have no energy to do much else. I tried raising my hand, and it slid of the bed and fell asleep. My motor control had failed. The rythmic beeping of the monitor is the only sound I hear; it mocks me in a way, telling me that I'm alone. The cords in my arms feel awkward and uncomfortable on my skin. After my arm fell asleep, so did I. But I was reawakened by the soft click of a door. I try to raise my arm again, instead, it just twitches. I try to say hello to the figure approaching me, but I sounded more like a gargled "haylla".

To be honest, I'm horrified with myself. But the man who entered was amazed. He was middle aged, maybe even older, with thinning white hair and a grey suit. He blinked when I tried to move my arm again, then after another failed attempt; he gently places my arm on the bed and then rushes out of the room. And then, the only emotion I can process is sadness and loneliness. My eyes rim with tears and my vision blurs.

The door swings open loudly this time, but my only able reaction to the noise is my head flops towards it. The first man walks in, along with another man. He has white hair as well, though in all honesty he doesn't look old enough to be fifty or sixty. He hobbles towards me while he clutches his own ribs.

Who were these people? Where was I?

The hobbling man sits gingerly on the end of my hospital bed. I try to speak again.

"Halla," My words are muffled by my brain and I am frustrated beyond compare. Randomly, I burst into tears. Even my sobs are horrifying.

The man strokes my hair and tells me it's alright. He says that they thought I was gone completely, until I healed my wounds faster than anything he's ever seen. He told me I would be back to normal in no time. I didn't believe him.

I slow myself to sniffles, and breathe slowly. If I try hard enough, I can do it. I always have been able to. My natural body healed with my metahuman abilities, but the connection between my mind and my body are lacking.

After a few minutes of staring at the hobbled man, I get a feeling like I know him. He has an eye patch. He has a goatee. I know him.

At least I think I know him.

I'm perplexed, and I think he sees that. He smiles, in a slight, awkward, way.

"I was about to tell you my name when the wall exploded. My name is Slade, Slade Wilson."

Name. It's not a hard word to say, only one syllable. I can do this.

"Na-na-na-m-m," My failed attempts seem to be improving at least. I loll my head down, just enough to still see the goatee man and my hand. I twitch my thumb, then my index finger, then my middle finger, then my ring finger, and finally my pinky. I repeat this motion several more times in both hands. And with each repetition, it gets easier and faster.

Both men just stare at me; I feel like a sideshow attraction. I continue until I can move my entire hand at once.

Then something hits me, possibly even harder than the wall did.

"Azula," I say in a surprised and broken voice. The goatee man nods and tells me to rest. He gets up and hobbles back out the door, followed by the first man.

I am left alone, and I continue to work my motor skills. I don't intend to rest soon. Before I know it I can say two syllable words without a sweat and flex my arms and legs. But from all the hard work, I slip off into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Awakening

Chapter Four: Awakening

Azula PoV

It's been two days since I awoke from my comma. I can walk with support, talk like almost normal, and use small bits and pieces of my powers, which were burnt out from healing me physically so rapidly.

My clothes were discarded due to the amount of blood and shrapnel pieces in it. Wintergreen Brought in a pair of light blue jeans and a green camouflage T-shirt. The pants fit perfectly and so did the shirt. They weren't typically my style, but I was happy to wear anything besides a hospital gown.

I learned that the first man I saw was named Wintergreen, he was Slades butler. But I soon realized he was also his good friend. Slade just happened to be a millionaire that lived in the small town of Lithonwood, Wisconsin.

I also asked him about the accident.

He says that when the explosion first went off, he couldn't find me, then a rival of his started shooting and he took three bullet wounds to the chest and one in the calf. He is a metahuman, though, like me. And so his healing rate is through the roof. The only remnant of the bullets is little pink circles on his skin with slight jagged edges.

He found me when he fought his way free. When he says he got me to his home, I was dead, but then before his eyes, I floated just above the bed he placed me on and my wounds were gone in minutes. I stayed in a comma for twelve hours though, and I stopped floating after two of them.

In my free time I explore his home. I hated being cooped up in that small white room. With my sturdy cane by my side, I roam the endless halls until either Wintergreen finds me or I get tired or sit down to rest somewhere.

On the fourth day after my awakening, I can run and talk back with my witty comments, I can recall most of my memories, and my motor skills are as good as new. I am normal, save for my memories, but those will return with time. I hope.

On the fifth day, I got curious about his occupation, and why I found him in the abandoned warehouse with lackeys. He doesn't tell me much, which tells me just enough.

Either the crazy-pirate-goatee man is a secret mob boss, or he gets bored in his mansion and likes to explore. The latter was more for fun than actual incident.

Luckily, Slade allows me to stay in a guest room. It's a considerable upgrade from the medical room, and I am grateful. It's even bigger than my shared room at the group home. The room is decorated in at least three different shades of purples, and I consider asking him if he had a daughter, but I think better about it. I have a private bathroom too, with a giant mirror that covers an entire wall above the long countertop and sink. But the mirror just shows me the remnants of the explosion; Singed hair and light and fading pink marks over my skin. The scares will be gone very soon though, what with my healing.

Healing. That's one thing Slade asked me about right now. We were standing in the study, where the bookshelves reached the ceiling and were filled with a rainbow of books in all sizes, and several elegant couches are places variously around the room. I'm sitting on one couch, while Slade searches through a bookshelf ten feet away from me.

"I've been meaning to ask, how did you fix yourself up? I mean, I know you healed yourself, and I used to know another woman that could do the same thing, but, it still makes me wonder…" He keeps his face turned towards the books so I have to guess what his expression is.

"I've always been a little different. All my senses are heightened and I heal abnormally fast. I have this black magic thing going on that I can control, in small amounts though. I use to much and bad things happen," And bad things did happen when I tried to block a dog from getting hit by a car; I used so much power in that moment of desperation that I threw the dog and the car in opposite directions, the dog and the people in the car both died. I surface from the brief flashback and I realize that I had stopped talking and Slade was looking at me. I shake my head and continue, "I can teleport, fly, lift objects, and I sense auras and emotion. So to sum it up; I'm a freak," I try to cover my disapproval with a chuckle. It doesn't work.

"Black magic?"

"Well, the color is black, anyway. Like this," I levitate a book from a tall shelf and bring it to my hands, then put it back.

"Have you heard of the Teen Titans?" He walks to his dig desk in the corner of the room and sifts through a drawer.

"No. Wait, they were a superhero group in California, right? Like, ten years ago?"

"They were, yes," He looks up from the drawer and eyes me, as if deciding something. He brings a three inch stack of newspaper articles and plops them on my lap. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"The Titans," He gestures to the papers, "You wanted to know about my occupation, well, look through these papers. You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out."

He walks to the door and is about to leave, then speaks, "Come find me when you're do."

I go to ask him where he will be, but he is already gone.

I spent roughly thirty minutes reading through the stack he gave me. All of them had one thing in common; They were about the Teen Titans vs. a villain named Slade. Okay, that and they all come from Jump, California. And I was pretty sure, after the first five articles, that Slade Wilson was Slade the Villain. A few of the last articles had features of one of the Titans, a girl named Raven, who became his apprentice and then disappeared.

I shove the papers aside and searched a few hallways before I gave up with a huff. If I couldn't find him on foot, then I would look for his aura. I close my eyes and release my senses.

When I open my eyes again, there are two auras I see. One is a light red, and could be easily mistaken for a vibrant orange, and the other is a dark, smoky black. I'm willing to bet that the black one is Slade. So I follow that aura.

I pass a lot of hallways, and down three flights of stairs. The aura that is believed to belong to Slade is directly behind the last door at the end of the hall.

I push open the door and low and behold, a training room. Slade waits for me with his arms crossed.

"So you're the famous "Slade"?"

"Yes," He nods, "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow and place my hands on my hips.

"I will let you stay with me, and if you would like, I can even adopt you."

"You said proposition," I point out. Everything has hooks.

"I want you as my new apprentice. You remind me so much of my last apprentice, Raven. But I believe you will be better than her."

"Hmm, very tempting offer. But I have to ask, what happened to Raven? The last article I read said you murdered her?"

He shook his head and frowned, "No, I didn't. It became very complicated, and she decided to leave. I do wish she had stayed, though. I haven't seen her since, though I've heard of her mercenary work and it's quite impressive."

What have I got to lose? I gain a house, a father, a mentor. It sounded pretty fair to me. I broad a minute over the option, then smile.

"Apprentice Azula at your service," I give a faux two fingered solute to him. He smiles.


	6. Murder

A/N: In the last story, Slade's New Toy, I received a review asking what would happen to Robin. Well, if you're still with me in this story, then here is the start of his role.

P.S. Don't worry if he sounds like a psycho…

~snow

Chapter Five: Murder

Robin PoV.

"Hey James, I'm heading out. Tell Dale that I'll review his papers in the morning if he shows up."

"Yep," James mumbles into his computer screen.

I fling my black jacket over my shoulder by a hooked finger as I make my way out of my office and to my car. The police station was settling down, but only slightly as the nightshift was about to start. I bounce down the big steps in front of the station and over to the parking area.

A shadowy figure catches in my peripheral; I turn but nothing is there.

To anyone on the street I would look cautious. But to anyone who knows the old Robin, then they know I saw Her.

I know it's Her, I can feel it. Sometimes I hear her calling my name, but no one else hears it. Bruce says I'm suffering from trauma. But I don't feel threatened or scared; it doesn't feel traumatic to me.

It feels like I am indebted to Her; like I need to find her and worship Her. She is a God and I am Her servant.

Sometimes I'll hear Her call and then black out. I've woken up hours later, and even days. But I always wake up on my apartment floor.

Always home, no matter where I was before I blacked out.

My psychologist says muscle memory pushes my body home each time.

I never remember. Ever.

It's always about Her.

My breath catches in the air as fog and disperses seconds later. The sidewalk under my feet is slick and frozen, yet there is no snow. Not yet at least.

Raven PoV

It's been two months since that strange dream where I was running with the baby. My baby. I haven't checked on her in four years. I left her in the hands of a good friend from Azarath. I had learned that she escaped to Earth just before Azarath was destroyed, and she was the one that helped me most when I did escape the first time. She also helped raise me; Alana Kirkov.

The last time I checked, Alana lived in Moscow, Wisconsin. But as I search for her now I can't find her there. Instead, I find newspaper articles of her gruesome murder from a few weeks ago in a new town where they moved to a few years ago, Lithonwood.

I know Lithonwood, or at least what it holds. I know who I tried to protect her from lives there. The evils that poison the man I used to apprentice under. And the man who stole my senses for just one night, that added to an unforgivable mistake.

And then another story I find is about her husband, who was murdered four days later. The children in the group home were now scattered acrossed Wisconsin. My first thought was to adopt Azula. But I notice that two of the children went missing directly after Alana's murder.

Azula was one of them.

I slam my laptop closed and look out the window down at Gotham for a brief moment, trying to sort things out. Gotham was a cruel place for those who didn't know any better, and at night the only beauty I found was in the lights of the non stop cars and building that surrounded my apartment. And occasionally the light of the bat signal would show in the sky in the distance.

Azula was out there somewhere, and I hoped to God or the Devil or whoever answers a half-Demon prayer, that she was safe. The whole reason why I trusted Alana with her is to keep her safely away from me. If I was to find her, I sure as hell wouldn't tell her I was her mother. That was for the best, I think.

But I have to make sure she is safe, no matter the cost.

Seconds later, my phone beeps. I open my cheap throw away phone and read an address and a name. Well this is interesting. My boss, the mob boss of Gotham; Falcone, Mario Falcone has a hit for me. A name and address are on the text. Might as well, I have to check up on things in Lithonwood, anyways.

Looks like Slade got on the bad side of the wrong people.

I get up and dig in my small closet for my duffel bag, and then pack a few clothes and essentials. I grab my fake ID and shove it in my purse along with a wad of five thousand dollars. According to my fake ID, my name is Sarah Steiner and I am twenty-six. My actual age was thirty-five, though I stopped aging after twenty-five thanks to my Demon heritage.

One more glance in the mirror tells me that I'm ready to go. I pull my black hair into a ponytail behind my head; my hair turned itself naturally to a black when Azula was born. A perk of being half demon, I suppose. And since then I've only cut it a few times, now it's mid to lower back length. But, luckily, my eyes remained the same purple as before. My grey dress shirt was mostly hidden by my black petticoat, and my dress slacks just reached my ankles where they meet with a sleek pair of black high heel boots. A few secret compartments in the boots dispensed knives, though airport security was unlikely to find them even with the help of x-ray scanners and metal detectors.

Two hours later, I board my plane at Gotham airport to a town nearby Lithonwood. The actual town of Lithonwood was so small that the only airport it had was privately owned. And even if I did land there, it would raise too much suspicion, and Slade would know as soon as I set foot in town that something was up, anyways.

o\0\8/0/o

Two days later, I finally arrive. I am in Lithonwood. The very root of evil I had avoided since my escape from the apprenticeship. I do not miss it one bit.

I bought a large house, six bedrooms and four bathrooms, during my first day on the road. The house was placed on a whopping four hundred acres on the outskirts on town, on the opposite side of Slades mansion.

I suppose I had just bought a mansion, too, with half of my life savings from working as a mercenary in different countries. I never worked as a gun for hire in the U.S. because I wanted to stay as far away from Slade as possible. Although, in recent years, I fell into place working with the Falcone family in Gotham city which was easy money.

The house was old, too, it was probably built around the mid 1800's. It had a wrap-around porch with a faded coating of blue paint with white trim. The inside was still furnished from the forties, though it all lay under sheets of dust protectors. I bought the house from the grandkids of who originally lived there, as they had died quite some time ago.

After several hours of cleaning the necessary rooms, I felt the need to visit the local coffee shop. I ordered my tea from the coffee shop and walked around on the streets for a bit to get an understanding of the town.

And as I walked the streets, my confidence grew; I would find Azula before her father did.


	7. Custody

Chapter Six: Custody

Azula PoV

I let the lukewarm water surround me and fall to the floor of the shower. The water pressure soothes my sore muscles after the past week of hardcore training. Luckily, I was already fit. Sadly, it didn't help much.

I step out and dry off, then dress in a simple dark blue T-shirt and navy jeans. I haven't felt the need to impress anyone here, so I don't dress to. But I manage to keep myself looking good in the simplest ways; the hair.

I haven't seen anything in town since that fateful night in the abandoned factory building district. But I need to stay hidden, at least until Slade fully adopts me. He said that the first day I was in the comma, he picked up the papers just in case. And after I agreed, he turned the papers in.

Maybe that's why he was in such a light mood today.

He sits at the head of the dinner table with a pungent smile. I glance at him, when he's not looking of course, to make sure that he's the same person. I use my fork and push my only remaining meatball acrossed my plate before stabbing with the fork and eating it. While I'm chewing, he speaks up.

"So," He starts casually, "I got something in the mail today."

I swallow before I answer, "Oh? Is it a puppy?" I ask with sarcasm.

"No, even better. The adoption papers. You are officially my daughter."

"How'd you pull that off?"

"Let's just say I have friends in high places."

I barely contain my pure joy at that moment. I crack a genuine smile and do everything in my power not to make something explode.

The next day, he gives me a free day from training to walk the town and relax. I throw on a black tank top that has an upside down red cross, my skinny jeans are vibrant dark red and my plain black Toms cling to my feet. Red lips and blackened eye liner are also painted on my face. I head to the park to take in the scenery. In a corner of the park, a group of five kids play Frisbee. I remember watching our group home play just before I ran away.

I laugh slightly at the memory and gaze at the next group of kids sitting on a blanket and munching away on sandwiches.

I walk along the path that leads around the outside of the park. Other than those few groups, hardly anyone is out today. Just beyond me is a chocolate haired boy with a brown leather jacket.

I freeze, and then in an instant, I call out to him.

I call out to Jason. He doesn't hear me, and he dives in a mass of trees that leave me feeling like it's a maze. I run after him and try my best to follow him. Next thing I know I almost bump in to his still back.

"Jason," I say and tap his shoulder. The guy turns around, but he isn't Jason.

"Jason?" He asks, "No, sorry. My name is Drake." He holds out his hand, and I shake it, out of courtesy more than anything else.

"Sorry, you look like an old friend. I'm Azula."

Drakes hair is a messy chocolate, just like Jasons is, but his eyes are red slits, like a cat; the red in his eyes are deep with crystals of light red fragmented within. His eyes are hidden under aviator glasses, but I can see past them easily. The abnormal eyes give him away instantly; he's a metahuman. And I sense his aura is a dark, burbling red. Dark red is not good. Any dark shade of a color is not good, in fact.

I shake it off.

"I know this sounds weird 'cause we just met, but, want to grab a coffee?"

Honestly? I'm flattered by the offer. And he's really quite attractive. If he was dangerous, I can protect myself.

"Sure, that sounds great," I smile slightly and let him lead the way.

Raven PoV

I strap my Glock .45 to my thigh, which will be hidden by my black dress. The black dress is simple; the sleeves reach mid forearm and the collar of the dress is low cut but hides most of my cleavage, the bottom rim of the dress reaches mid calf and on my left side there is a slit that extends to my thigh. The gun is hidden by the slit, safe and easy to retrieve. My boots with the hidden knife blades are attached to my feet. They are ankle-high pumps (the toe pumped area is where the knives are stored) that fit tightly with a thin layer of leather which hides my entire foot; the heel stem is thin and sharp enough to pierce someone, say I step on them.

My makeup is simple—yet stunning; smoky eyes shoot cold, calculating daggers in every direction. My lips are layered with a red stain, as apposed to lip stick, which tends to smudge in my line of work. My hair is resting around shoulders and flows with slight black waves down my back. I leave it down.

Just before I leave my house, I place a recording eye lens in my eye, like a contact. It's painless and I can still see out of that eye, but most importantly it's invisible. The sound recording device looks like a tiny round disk the size of a pencil eraser top and the color of my ashen skin to camouflages it, and it sticks to the inside of the ear. They record everything I see and hear. It will deffinantly come in handy for this.

I teleport myself to the outside of Slades front rot iron gates and walk towards the house. When I approach the gates I faze through it, not waiting for them to open up. The place hadn't changed much. Once I'm at the door, I sense Wintergreen running for the door. I don't bother knocking, because a few seconds later I am greeted with a shocked hello, and asked to come in.

Wintergreen leads me to the foyer. It was the room I spent the least amount of time in when I lived here. Elegant white couches faced the center of the room and overhead a crystal chandelier hung daintily. Wintergreen suggests that he will inform Slade of my presents. I am left alone so I walk in the room a few steps in the center and clasp my hands behind my back, facing the door, waiting for him.

Quickly, or quicker than I thought, the doors open. Slade walks in with a neutral look on his face. He looks like he had been working out; he had on a grey tank top and black sweat pants.

"Slade, nice to see you again. You're in good health, I assume?"

"Raven," He nodded a greeting back, not alluding to my question.

"You haven't changed one bit, Slade. You're still a mercenary, right?"

"Yes," He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me with suspicion, "Answer me this, why did you come back?"

"Well, just last year I stopped completely hating you, so I figured I would say hi, maybe make amends. You know, I am glad that I had trained under you, even if it was for a short period of time. I have a wonderful job now because of it," I smile politely.

"Yes, so I've heard," He says in attempt to make it sound like he believes me. I sense that he knows why I'm here.

"I've heard you've had it rough these past years since I left," I comment.

"On the contrary, I'm doing better than ever. I also enlisted a new apprentice," he says thoughtfully. My stomach tightens and I feel my rage boiling up.

"Did you drug them, too?" I sneer, and then swallow back the pain, "Sorry, I still have trouble will my emotions."

"No, believe it or not, some people do things on their own accord."

"I do believe that, and most people end up regretting their own choices. But never the less, I do not."

The door swings open and I glance towards it. A girl with a cheery smile bounces in like she just had the day of her life. Her hair is black as night and her eyes as blue as day.

I recognize her instantly; Azula.

"Oh, there you are," Slade looks at Azula, "Azula, this is Raven; she used to be my apprentice, just as you are."

"Azula, what a lovely name," I comment with a fake smile. In all reality I hate Slade more than ever, and I want to kill him more than ever.

My daughter is his apprentice.

No way in Hell was I going to let that happen.

"Nice to meet you Raven," She shakes my hand.

I sense a flicker of emotion in Slade, a sense of realization or suspicion. Maybe both. And it scares me. I'm sure Azula feels it, too; she casts a short and almost nonexistent glance at him.

"Well Slade, it was nice seeing you again. Give my regards to Wintergreen, would you?"

Slade and I both realize that all my goodbye means is "next time, I promise, I will get you." I couldn't kill him in front of her, that would leave a mental scare for a long time. And I don't want to hurt her more than I already have. I am a horrible mother.

I turn to leave, but Azula speaks.

"Goodbye, Raven," She says sweetly. It almost pains me to hear it, because she doesn't know who I am. I turn only my head so that my back is to them but they are in my peripheral vision.

"Goodbye, Azula, Slade; until next time." I exit.


	8. Maddness Brewing

Chapter Seven: Madness Brewing

Slade PoV

When Raven leaves, I go directly to my laboratory.

They look so similar, it doesn't make sense. Their hair, their skin, their face type, even their powers. Was this, perhaps, her child? It couldn't be; they just met tonight. Although Raven did act strange after Azula had entered the room. But Azula didn't respond like she knew her.

I may not have the power to sense emotions, like they do, but I felt something when they shook hands. The air felt different; heavier, even.

I knew what she came here to do. I know who she works for; the very mob I work against. Still, why did she care so much about not killing me in front of Azula? Ravens reputation is ruthless, and what she did was caring.

Somewhere in my walk in freezer full of samples, I have Ravens blood stored in a small vial. And more recently, I have a vial of Azulas' blood which I collected right after the accident.

I collect them both from the freezer and place single drops of both onto test strips, and then into a machine that processes the blood. It will take about a day to get full results with a second test done to assure accuracy.

Now, while the machine reads each DNA sample, I have to may take awhile.

I never really forgot Raven; it was hard not to think about her. I had slowly fallen for her, as stupid as that sounds to me. Seeing her yesterday was like poison; It stung bitterly and I utilized every ounce of my strength to hold myself together. She was mine, once, a long time ago. I should never have infused her with the toxin, that was my first of many mistakes. But I still had hopes that one day we could at least talk normally to each other. There would be no animosity, no grief, no surly or disdain. I longed for days I couldn't have, of course. And I knew they were impossible to hope and dream for, but I did anyways.

I love the untouchable, deadly Raven.

Azula PoV

Right after Raven left, Slade acted unusual. He said nothing of my return, and sped out of the room, leaving me very questioned behind.

On the bright side, I had a good time with Drake. I even got his number, though, I wasn't able to give him mine; I didn't have one. And I wasn't about to give Slades house number to a partial stranger. Still, I am overjoyed with the turn out.

I push aside my confusion and stupidity and go to my room. Right after a quick shower, I lay on my bed. I'm really exhausted but I can't seem to relax, or fall under sleeps spell.

Something was wrong about Ravens visit. I'm missing something, my stomach is knotted and I can't shake the sense of paranoia.

If Slade said Raven never came back, then why would she be back today? And why would she leave so suddenly after I arrived…?

I really hate mysteries…

Or maybe it's not meant to be a mystery. Maybe she just had to go. I'm making something stupid out of nothing again.

I sit up and reach for the torn napkin in my pocket. Ten digits are splayed acrossed it with dashes between. The name just above it reads Drake. I can't stop myself from smiling, a nervous knot forms in my stomach.

Nevertheless, I should keep him a secret. Wouldn't want Slade to think I'm fraternizing with the commoners. He would probably do extensive research that would scare the shit out of Drake.

It wasn't too long ago that I was head over heals in love with Jason. He was my best friend, through and through. But when he rejected me, I gave up on him and accepted just his friendship. Though it was hard to come to that conclusion, and sometimes I still feel for him, but it is all a distant dream now.

It's all a dream. The group home was a hoax; Jason is an illusion; the murder of Mrs. Kirkov was a joke; the blood writing on the wall was a hallucination.

But it's not, in all the same.

I set the napkin down in a drawer of my desk and lay back down on the bed. A sudden feeling of dread filled my stomach. I had almost forgotten about the writing.

"Where is she?" I ask myself quietly, repeating the words on the wall.

Raven PoV

Today was horrid. It made my heart ache and my blood boil with rage. My child-_my baby_-was with that monster? It was her father, after all. But she didn't know that, and I had hopes that he didn't either. The world fell to Hell after I found out I was pregnant with her. No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't just kill her with an abortion. It was an inocent life. In my line of work I tried to go for the guilty ones. I had tried so hard when I was with the Titans to fit in and become "good".

That is near imposible for a half Demon creature to fathom.

"Good" isn't even relatively close to me.

I had good friends in the Titans. Now they aren't more than my enemy. Well except Robin. I had infused him with a piece of my soul that had made him part Demon, and gave him a split personality. His split personality was what I called upon when I needed help; He was my Renegade. Sure, he could pass any psych test that they gave him. But he still knew he was different. He never remembers anything about me or our adventures together.

Beast Boy left the Titans first, four years after I left. Starfire was next, six months after Beast Boy. Robin and Cyborg stayed for five years after I left, but Robin soon after moved to Bludhaven and became Nightwing. Cyborg still lives at the Tower with the next wave of superheros. I've heared they are a good team, and that they are a great family.

Looking back on my past now, it just doesn't seem right. How I lived for so long. Why I didn't choose Slade sooner. Then again, I didn't choose him at all. The toxin did. And with that in mind, the toxin only changed how my outlook on life was, really.

God, I miss Slade. I never thought I would say that. Not after our mistake. No, Azula wasn't a mistake; she was a mixed blessing. If Demons even got blessings bestowed upon them. Which I doubted.

I had messed up by not staying with Slade and revealing to him our child. But it's all past now. And all I can hope to do is change the future.

For better or for worse.

Unknown PoV

A chilling voice spoke from the darkness, breaking the silence between the three figures as they watched a group of people from afar move the small boxes from a metal container in a shipping yard to a semi truck.

"We could strike now, and save the time we don't have, Greed," the voice hissed.

"In due time you will learn that in order to get what you want, time is crucial, Wrath. And the war they want is what we want, too," the second voice was even and sure. A third voice spoke.

"So let them tear each other to pieces then wave our incentive in their face; like easy blood to a starving vampire. But will Pride try to stop us?"

"She will come, too, Lust, she will be faced with reason; she will think it is the only way to save her seed and it is the only way we can assure that she remains at bay."


	9. Fun Company

This early update is for you, pineapplefish! You are awesome! Thank you for inspiring me to continue writing!

Everyone else: Please review! The story can only get better if you do!

~Happy reading!

* * *

Chapter Eight: Fun Company

Azula PoV

_One-twenty-three. One-twenty-four. One-twenty-five…_

I count off my push ups in my head.

I should have known that Slade would push me farther directly after a day break of nothing. But whatever.

Karma, or something along those lines.

The door slams open and Slade storms through, making me jump from the unexpected bestiality. I continue my exercise, and Slade stands still with his arms over his chest a few feet away from me. He just watches, his lone eye calculated.

Creep.

"Get up; it's time to go."

Jumping up to my feet, I see Slade is already halfway to the door. I jog after him.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice slightly smaller than it should have been.

Slade is either really pissed, or he's murderously pissed.

"To visit an old friend. Put on the suit the Wintergreen is going to bring your room, and wear the domino mask."

Raven PoV

"Why haven't you killed him yet?!"

Mario Falcone paced angrily beside his desk. His slowly balding head shows the years of pre-aging that accompanies with his stress-filled life. His brown button down dress shirt had recently been pressed; there were no wrinkles in the fine silk.

"It's not that simple; he's the best mercenary in the world, he covers his tracks and watches his back," I snidely reply.

"I paid you to kill him! I want it done! If he gets in my way one more time I swear to you that you will be dead, as well as him!"

"I will kill him, I just need time," I huff, exasperated.

A nock at his office door makes both our heads turn, and then a young man walks in. The boys' aviator jacket and brown tousled hair make me think he could be Mario's son, until I see his eyes. They are burning red, unnatural, and devilish.

He charms a smile my way until he hints at my glare, then turns his attention to Falcone instead.

"Firefly, this is Raven. Raven; Firefly," Falcone introduces us with gestures. "He is also helping with your assassination, just, from a different angle. So, let's hear it; report."

"The land around Slades house is chalked full of booby traps; from nets and cameras, to death pits and landmines. His robots patrol the area regularly. Along with the other older guy he lives with, there's a girl, probably about my age. Her name is Azula. She's pretty hot. I think she's his new apprentice. I'm not sure if she's his actual daughter or not."

"It's not," I interrupt, "Azula was in a group home before the lady was killed a few months back."

"Alright then, Firefly; get close to the girl, see what she knows. Raven, change of plans, this girl could get us what we need. Don't kill him just yet. Just observe and report."

Azula PoV

The suit Wintergreen had given me was jet black, with grey accents, grey utility belt, and flexible silver armor plates for my arms and legs. The top of the chest and neck looked like metal armor but it was really a thin bullet resistant material that was made to look heavy. A domino mask came with the suit; I put it over my eyes, per instructions.

Once I see Slade, I realize why half the house is orange and black and what inspired my suit.

Half of his suit is orange while the other is black. His mask only has one eye hole, though I suppose showing off his dead eye wouldn't help much.

"Nice color scheme. I was wondering if you really liked Halloween or if you just liked orange a lot."

He gives me a death glare, one that says _stop talking._

"Tonight is serious; no quirky remarks, no sarcasm. Got it? Don't speak unless spoken to. You are my apprentice. Act as such, especially tonight. We are meeting with someone very dangerous. Do not be disrespectful."

"I won't, scouts honor," I gave a Girl Scout solute, which earned me a sigh and a shake of Slades head.

"Sorry," I mutter, stifling a giggle, "So where are we going?"

"We are staying here; they are coming to us."

"But I thought you said—" He interrupts me.

"I said that to get you freshened up and ready. Do not question me," He replies sharply.

_He's bipolar, _I think to myself. But I can handle that; my old roommate at the Kirkov house, Monica, was bipolar. Of course I hated her; I made food explode in her hair when I was eight.

"Our first guest is Richard Swift, he should arrive first. Some say he is the devil incarnate; don't fuck with him."

"So he's a super-villain?"

"He can manipulate shadows," Slade turns away from me and stands before the door in time with a nock.

The lights flicker and dim, then suddenly go out. It's still light outside but I suddenly can't see three feet in front of me. I hold my breath. I'm not scared, let me get that straight. I don't know what to expect.

The darkness fades seconds after it appeared but a man in a black suit and top hat stands in front of Slade. His hair is a jet black while his eyes are tinted gold, and a golden handled cane hangs from his arm. His eyes scan Slade, and then me.

"Demon, what is your name?" He asks me in a silky tone.

"I'm not a Demon."

"I can sense it, you are pure darkness. Your mind lies in the murk of the lagoon while your soul is lost to the cosmos. You are very powerful I assume, or of high blood."

"I said I'm not a Demon."

"You can stop tormenting my apprentice now, Richard. I have a business proposition for you."

"Oh goody. Shall we wait for the others to get here, or should we start the circus early?"

"I must brief the next two of your presence so we don't have a problem," Slade looks at me sternly, "Show him to the parlor."

_Dammit Slade, _I think to myself, _I don't like this guy._

"This way," I lead him down the giant hall to an ornate orange and gold door that is twice as tall as me, and lead him through.

On the far wall, the fireplace sits unused and dusty. Several ornate couches line the floor with glass coffee tables in between.

"Make yourself at home," I gesture towards the seats.

I sit on one of the couches and he sits acrossed from me. He' just stares at me, and it's kind of weird now. Creepy, even. I stare back; if it's a contest he wants, it's a contest he'll get.

Golden eyes peer into my sapphire ones. Neither blinks. He speaks first.

"My powers come from infernal properties and you my dear reek of Demon. You are a Halfling, no doubt. You have Demon in your eyes," He assesses, his lips move graciously while his eyes never waver from mine.

"I don't trust you," My voice venomous, "Therefore; I don't believe anything you say."

He looks away and chuckles a bit, then becomes serious again.

"Very wise, Miss Azula, very wise."

I stifle a shiver, "I never told you my name."

"Ah, wise and clever. I know more than you can guess, my dear."

I was about to tell him to go screw something, but the doors swing open, reminding me that Slade told me to not mess around with him.

Slade is the first to walk through, followed by a red haired woman in a skintight red suit with silver gloved hands and shoulder armor, and two guns strapped to either hip. The last to enter is a man in a black armor suit with a red "V" starting at his chin and reaching his ears on either side. He also has a grey chest holster for two guns, and a shotgun is strapped to his back.

Fun company.

"Azula, this is Manhunter," Slade gestured to the woman in red, "And Vigilante," gesturing to the man in the black suit.

Slade continues, "This is Azula, my apprentice."


End file.
